


Boy, Just Come Along

by Measured_Words



Category: Murder on the Dance Floor - Sophie Ellis-Bextor (Music Video)
Genre: Crazy Stories, Dancing, Established Relationship, F/M, Murder, POV First Person, manic pixie dream girl, or are they...?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Some things just can't be taken seriously, until you're forced to.  And then maybe' its too late.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7
Collections: Jukebox 2020





	Boy, Just Come Along

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lea_hazel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/gifts).



> Happy Jukebox - I hope this entertains :) 
> 
> ...I am never going to get this song out of my head, though!

I thought Marian was my Manic Pixie Dream Girl. She was perfect – beautiful, but awkward and weird. I thought I could handle it – it was cute and quirky, and she was so hot. She had this story she would tell people if they got to asking where she came from – she was some kind of time war agent, or alien, or something. Anyway, she'd been sent here to assassinate someone in a secret war, and she'd done it years ago, but something had gone awry, and she wasn't allowed to leave this time, or timeline, until she'd completed her final instructions. Details varied whenever she told it, but I knew enough to play along, but it was a crapshoot whether she'd be amused or annoyed.

We heard about the dance competition from a friend of mine, Laurine, who taught pole and exotic dance at the same studio, and Marian was immediately fascinated. She wanted to know all the details – what the dances were, the rules, anything Laurine knew about the competitors and judges. I asked her if she wanted to enter – I dance, but I haven't done any kind of competitive stuff since I was in middle school and my mom made me. I wasn't really serious, but she was.

"Yes," she told me, all the 'manic' showing in her pixie eyes. "I think this could be it! It fits the profile of all the communiques I've received! The name of the studio, the contestants, the judges…"

I smiled, thinking this was just the usual bit, but not really in the mood for it. "Girl, all you had to say was yes!" She accepted this, and the accompanying distractions, but when we got up the next morning, the first thing she showed me was the email receipt confirming her – our – entry in the contest. "Hope you still got those dancing shoes," she said. "You're going to need them."

We practiced. I'm used to dancing for fun, with a bit of spontaneity and fluidity, but she wasn't into that, despite what I said about the judges liking contestants to have some flair. She danced with focus, sure, but it was more about the perfect execution of the moves than any passion. "We're going to win because we slay, and because they're terrified, and because I've done what I'm here to do," she said. "Now try it again." 

The day of the competition came, and it was about what I expected. People were going all out for this – fancy costumes, lots of energy, lots of fun – everything that was missing from Marian. She was cute as ever, but whatever manic energy she'd had before was all business now. And she wouldn't quit talking about this was it, she was going to complete her assignment, make contact with her handler, and win. Her victory would be total, and as long as I played my role perfectly to her expectations, I could share it with her. All of it. What I heard was 'do this for me and you'll get so laid, babe', but I guess I should have paid more attention. 

Before the announcer called the event to order, we did a tour of the room. I was just trying to be polite – despite it being a hosted by a friend's studio, I didn't know any of the other competitors. Marian was just interested in the trophy, a pair of sparkly red shoes glued on a cheap glittered pedestal. "This is it," she said, her eyes lit with something like joy, "everything is coming together!" She nodded to the other dancers as we made the round, but it felt more like she was taking the measure of the enemy than trying to make friends. I mean it was a real competition, but this seemed more serious. The funny thing is, I wasn't sure, by that point, if it was just her. There was a bit of a weird vibe, though people were about how I'd expect for this kind of thing – you know, flamboyant.

I told myself I was just getting too caught up in her games. We'd do this, it would be fun or it wouldn't, and honestly? If she was going to keep being like this once it was over, maybe that would be the end for us. We took our places, and she leaned in close. "Just follow along," she whispered. "And don't. React. To Anything." I didn't know what to think.

When the dancing actually started, it was just like in practice. She got that focused look and just sort of went through the motions. Everyone around us was cutting it up, but I did what she wanted and stuck to the straight forward plain vanilla moves we'd gone over in practice. She was doing the same – until she wasn't. 

I thought the first one might have been an accident. The woman could have tripped on her own, and it could have been coincidence. The next one – no. I saw her. And she knew it. She smiled. "This is just a warmup. They're no one." She was just thinning the herd. I could tell, when we went into another 'all together' and those three guys stepped up. The way she was watching them was way more intense and focused. We were allowed some water breaks, and she took one right after – well, after she got some other girl disqualified over a 'wardrobe malfunction'. I stood off to the side and watched the whole thing.

She had poison. In her ring. She was really suave about it, and it was over very quickly – I can't imagine how she didn't think she'd get caught though, even given that I was a sucker who was both too into her, and now too afraid of her, to rat her out. They'd figure out they'd been poisoned, and trace it back… She caught me staring and winked. And then she slipped off, while those three were staggering off to the washroom with god knows what running through their systems. I'm not sure where she went, but she came back looking smug. After that it was a bit more shenanigans. If I hadn't seen what happened with those guys, I'd have felt worse for the girl who slipped and messed up her ankle. It might be a rough recovery, but at least she was alive.

"I've completed my assignment," she whispered, as the injured woman's partner helped her off the floor. "Nothing left but to report in."

I went to get myself a drink. I was a bit shaken – kind of glad at that point we weren't trying anything complicated, as I don't think I could have pulled it off. Sticking to the basics seemed like the best idea after all. I watched her go over to talk to one of the judges… and realized one was missing. There had been three, but they were down one. And no one else seemed to have noticed. As for Marian's 'debriefing', I might have been annoyed to see her getting so flirty with some old guy under normal circumstances, but honestly, it wasn't like her. Something was up.

I still didn't want to watch it though, and something else was bothering me. I hadn't seen those guys come out of the washroom, but no one was calling the police about three dead bodies either, so I wanted to check it out. Maybe they were just still in there puking their guts up, or something. Maybe they were fine.

Maybe they were gone. There was no trace of them, but neither the toilets nor the sinks (or urinals, for that matter) looked like they'd been particularly foully abused. There was a weird smell in the air, but it was more chemical than biological. I guess they could have left when I was distracted – Marian was cooking up a lot of quality distractions tonight – but I wasn't sure. 

She was so much more relaxed, excited even, when I rejoined her. The floor had thinned out considerably, from regular dismissals and disqualifications as much as from her shenanigans.  
"Everything's gone so perfectly," she told me, grinning. "You'll see." I just nodded and got on with the dancing.

There wasn't much left. I could see the judges making the rounds, letting a few other couples – really good ones – go. There were no more shenanigans from Marian, but I guess she figured that she'd already achieved what she came for. I kept up my bargain, and my low-key dancing. Somehow I was still surprised when they called us up to the podium at the end of it, but I stood there, grinning like an idiot as they handed us a huge bouquet, those fancy red shoes and, yeah, a fat fistful of cash. I let Marian do all the talking and just kept to the background.

Everyone else drifted away, but she clearly had no intention of leaving. Once things quieted down and everyone else was packing up, the judge and, surprisingly, the DJ, came over. The latter glanced at me, then turned to Marian.

"Good work, Agent. I knew it would all come together. But still - you sure about that one?"

"I promised," she told him. She was still as excited as I'd ever seen her. "And I couldn't have done it without him. He absolutely kept his cool, and his mouth shut."

"Admirable enough traits, I suppose." The judge still looked like a smarmy fuck, but I guess I was still committed to my role, so I didn't punch him for the look he gave me. "If you're sure – there's no going back after this."

"It's okay," Marian said. "I've told him *everything*. I think he's ready." She turned to me and beamed. "Right?"

The DJ was gathering his equipment as we talked, and I realized that it was not standard. I hadn't paid him much attention with everything else going on, but apparently, I should have. There was equipment that looked like nothing I'd ever seen before. And he wasn't so much packing it away as reconfiguring it. The judge and Marian were both pulling out these little devices, and Marian offered me one as well.

I was trying to remember all of the 'everything' she'd told me. Time war? Aliens? Secret agents? I wasn't even sure what side she was on. But what was I going to say – admit to her that I'd never take it seriously and had just been scared shitless of her all night? And still was? 

Hell no. I took the… whatever it was, and I smiled. "Of course, girl. I'm all in."


End file.
